


Welcome Back, Sergeant Barnes.

by thirdeyebarnes



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bisexual Steve Rogers, Coming Out, Gay Bucky Barnes, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Post Canon Divergence, Post-Black Panther (2018), Recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-05-19 05:28:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19350442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirdeyebarnes/pseuds/thirdeyebarnes
Summary: Bucky was here now. He was Hydra free for the first time in 70 years. Finally, he thought, he had a chance to live a normal life.





	1. Chapter One.

“Welcome back, Sergeant Barnes” 

The bright light flooded Bucky’s vision as he slowly regained feeling in his limbs. He could feel the heat against his arm first, then his left leg, then his right, the fog on his brain lifted as he slowly came to. One by one, his memories start coming back to him. He remembered going into cryo after Germany, and coming to Wakanda with Steve and T’Challa. He remembered being told that they could remove the conditioning and then hoping that Shuri, King T'Challa’s sister and the Princess of Wakanda, and Wanda would be able to do it. 

“Bucky’s okay ma’am, I haven’t been Sergeant Barnes since ‘45.” his voice rough from the lack of use. Shuri smiled at him, a genuine smile too. No trace of fear on her face. “Okay then, Bucky. We were successful in our attempts to rid you of Hydra’s conditioning, you are now officially Hydra free.”

He didn’t try to hide the shock on his face. He didn’t want to underestimate Shuri and Wanda, but he’d been under Hydra’s control for over 70 years. The conditioning had been wired and active for the majority of those years. Never did he believe that what was implanted into him could be removed. Snapping out of his daze, he released the tension in his muscles. His shoulders slumped, his body still sluggish from the cryo. 

But he was here now. He was Hydra free for the first time in 70 years. Finally, he thought, he had a chance to live a normal life. 

-

When he said he was going to live a normal life, this was definitely not what he planned. He was still free of Hydra, and heard whispers of their bases being destroyed by a formidable trio. He couldn’t go back to Brooklyn just yet, there were still legal issues surrounding him. Not only was he legally dead, but he was also a most wanted assassin. So he had to stay in Wakanda until Tony and Pepper were able to clear his name and prove that he was in fact, the same James Buchannan Barnes that was born in 1917. 

He was happy though. He had therapy on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays and Physiotherapy on Thursdays, testing out a new vibranium arm that Shuri had graciously designed, made and improved, for him. . His memories were coming back to him more and more each day, and they stayed this time. They were no longer quick flashes of colour, of specific smells, or sounds that only he could hear. They were as tangible as anyone else's memories. He could call upon them whenever he wanted and not get a migraine. He was making real progress. He wasn’t the same Bucky as the one who lived in a shabby apartment in Brooklyn, or the Bucky who was on the front lines, or the Bucky who lay on the cold, metal table, repeating his name and identification number over and over and over again. He made peace with this. He was still Bucky, but just a new version of him with a little more baggage. 

Now thought, he lived a tranquil life. He had his small hut on the outskirts of the main city, close to the farmlands. He had his herd of goats that he devoted most of his time to. Raising animals was a lot more difficult than he thought. Now he knew for sure that he was right to not let Steve keep the alley stray in their apartment. His hut was located on an open lake, surrounded by trees and the native flora of Wakanda. He spent most of his days basking in the sun by the lake, trying to get rid of the pasty colour of his skin, as Shuri had kindly put it. For the first time in his life, since before he got his first job at thirteen, he could relax. He was at peace with his life and with himself, and it was one of the best feelings in the world. 

 

/

 

He was feeding his goats when Shuri and Okoye arrived at his hut. The pair visited him often, him and Shuri becoming close throughout his rehabilitation after cryo. She told him the basics of what he missed, but kept it mostly minimal, leaving him to catch up at his own speed when he was ready. Okoye was the general of the Dora Milaje and was in charge of protecting Shuri. She was always at his and Shuri’s meetings and though she stayed professional during the meetings, she always ended up talking with them and giving suggestions of her own on what he should read up on first. 

So when the two of them arrived at the front of his garden he didn’t think much of it. They visited him whenever they had time to. He didn’t try to hide the skip in his step as he walked down to meet them. He loved their visits. He lived on his own out here and hated it. Sure, the kids visited him from time to time, and he loved when they did. They reminded him of his sisters that he’d lost. But, he did miss having the constant company he had for most of his life. He’d never lived alone before he fell from the train, whether it be with his parents and his sisters growing up, never having a minute of peace or living with Steve, back in their cramped Brooklyn apartment. Even during the war he was never on his own, always surrounded by other soldiers, cramped together in the muddy trenches, and then camping across Europe with Steve and the other commandos. So he wasn’t used to being alone, and he desperately craved company sometimes. 

“Hey, what brings you two over? I haven’t seen you both in ages.” He asks, pulling Shuri into a hug and giving Okoye a nod. She isn’t one for informalities while she’s working and he respects that. “There’s nothing you can do for us today Sergeant-” “Bucky” He corrects, a smirk creeping onto his face. There was nothing more that Shuri, the smartest woman in the universe, hated more than being corrected. And he knew that. Rolling her eyes at the correction, but she’s smiling. She laughs a little before continuing what she was saying, “Sorry. There’s nothing you can do for us today, Bucky” No one says anything about the emphasis she puts on his name, but they all laugh, even Okoye. “Actually, we’re here to give you some news we got this morning. A certain trio is coming in a few days to visit for a while. A much needed break after what they’ve been doing”. No one ever goes into specifics about what they do around Bucky. It’s not that they don’t want him to know, because of all people, he deserves to know the most. They don’t trust him to not somehow sneak out of Wakanda to join them on their next mission. “Just thought I’d let you know so you have time to clean you and your hut up before your boyfriend gets here. Wouldn’t want you not looking your best for him.”

And with one word, his stomach drops. “Don’t say that Shuri, Steve isn’t like that, he’s not a queer. You can’t just accuse him of something like that” he says, voice hushed as he looks around to make sure no one else heard the Princess. People can’t think that his best friends like that. I’m sorry, what do you mean he’s “Not a queer”? This isn’t the old times, Sergeant. You don’t use that word in that way, and you definitely don’t say it like it’s a bad thing. Besides, Captain Rogers came out as bisexual in 2014. So yes, you’re best friend is ‘like that’ ”

He’s queer? He never said so before. Never once in all the years that they spent together did Bucky ever suspect. Sure, the other boys on the street called him names like ‘fairy’ and ‘queer’ cause he was a skinny thing who preferred to sketch and paint rather than play soccer. But, he actually was this whole time? And he loved Carter too? Bucky didn’t think you could be that way. Like both. He’d heard stories about gay boys and lesbians in Brooklyn, but never about people who liked both. Maybe they just hid it. Thought it was easier to pretend they only liked who they were supposed to.

Had his Steve pretended the whole time? Had he denied himself that side of him? Did he go to those bars too, like Bucky had? Did he look for the tallest man in there and meet him in the back alley? Did he go for the tall brunettes, with a boxer's build and calloused hands? Bucky had always gone for smaller men, the ones who had blond hair and frail builds. Wiry limbs and boney fingers. Just for those short few moments, he could pretend it was Steve he was kissing, Steve’s skin he could feel under his skin. Thinking of memories hurt. Not in the way his memories had once hurt, but this was a deep pain in his chest. When he thought of those nights, his heart ached. It ached thinking about his best friend, how he watched him go on dates with some girls from their block, how he watched him dance with them when they went on double dates. It’s the same ache that he felt when he watched Steve kiss his date goodnight.

Okoye clears her throat behind Shuri, taking him out of the past and bringing him back to the moment. The present, where his Steve likes men just like he does, except Steve doesn't hide it like he does. Steve told the whole world that he does. When he looks back at the pair, coming back to reality, they’re both looking at him. Their eyes narrowed, a mix of anger and disappointment in them, eyebrows furrowed. He’s fucked up. He knows he has. He shouldn’t have said anything. Should have went along with it. 

“I appreciate that where you’re from, using language like that was okay. To have such hateful beliefs was common. But this isn’t where you’re from. This is Wakanda. This is a country where all love is accepted and encouraged. And until you learn to respect that, you are not welcome into the city, aside from your therapies and appointments with me.”

And with that, the two women turn their backs and go back to the city. And he’s left alone in his garden with nothing but his thoughts and the sound of goats bleating.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bucky does some soul searching and we get a glimpse into his childhood.

It’d been a couple of hours since Shuri and Okoye went back to the city and left Bucky while he was processing the new information. The sun was starting to set, the last of its rays reflecting off the clear water of the lake. He’d spent all afternoon thinking over what Shuri had said to him. Thinking about Steve liking men and woman, but he was mostly thinking about the part where he likes men. The shock of the news still hadn’t left his system. He was able to grasp the concept of liking both men and women easily, because he made sense, But he was still struggling with Steven Grant Rogers being like that. It didn’t make sense to him. Steve never expressed any interest in men before. Whenever Bucky tried to talk about that stuff, whenever he brought up the conversation of the two roommates who lived on the floor next to them that had some nasty rumours circulating. It didn’t make sense at all. He had watched a video of Steve coming out after Shuri and Okoye left. He seemed content in the video. Seemed at ease too, maybe even happy. Bucky hadn’t seen him look anything like that since before the war. He definitely hadn’t seen him like that in the future. Maybe Steve had found someone. Maybe he found himself a fella, and that’s why he wanted to tell people about him being bisexual. Steve had found himself someone that he cared about, someone that he loved enough to tell the world one of his deepest, most personal secrets. And that person wasn’t Bucky. 

He really hadn’t meant to offend Shuri and Okoye earlier. As part of his rehab, he’s being caught up on pop culture, changes in society and other things of that sort. But they never talked about being gay, so he assumed it was still a taboo thing. He doesn’t have bad feelings towards gay people, they’re just people who love differently to others. His ma taught him that when he was a kid after some boys on the school yard called Steve a fairy. He’d punched them for calling him a name. He didn’t know what it meant, but he knew they didn’t mean it in a nice way, so he punched them. When he got home that afternoon he asked his ma what it meant when you call someone a fairy but you’re being mean. She’d told him that it was a bad word people called men who loved differently to other men. She told him that loving differently wasn’t a bad thing, but some people didn’t like that they loved differently so they called them mean names. That explanation had satisfied his curiosity and he went back to playing with his sisters, never really giving the idea much thought again. In his little brain, all that mattered was that it was a bad name, and he didn’t like when people called his friend Steve a bad name.

But he didn’t know people talked about things like that so openly in the future. He’s still adjusting to his new life, the new century, the new everything. He’s going to slip up sometimes, and although his therapist tells him that it’ll be a slow process, he doesn’t feel like he’s doing enough work to make that progress. He should have researched the things that people didn’t talk about before. It’s his own fault that he offended Shuri - he should have done better, done more. 

It’s still strange to him, even after he does some research, that people are so open about loving the same sex, He grew up having to deny himself his attraction, had to hide who he really was to everyone he knew; his family, his friends, Steve. Never once did he think that it could be considered normal. He thought he’d always have to hide, have to fear for his life.

He still feels bad for offending Shuri that night when he’s getting ready to go to sleep. He spends an hour tossing and turning in his bed. Every new position, the slightest of movements, comes with a wave of discomfort. When he realises that this discomfort isn’t a tangible thing, he rolls out of bed and goes to get a drink. With his glass of water he sits at his front door and looks up at the stars. He wonders what’s beyond what he can see. Is it all beauty and unknown like he had once believed it to be? Or maybe another alien race plotting to invade the earth. Anything was possible these days. If there were to be an invasion, a lot of good people would fight to protect the earth. Some even give their lives for it. He thinks about them, the good people. He wonders how they live, if they were born good people or if it was something they developed as they got older. He was a good person once, back before the war. He helped his neighbours when they needed him, stopped fights when he saw them starting, helped the people who needed it the most, even if they never admitted to needing his help.

He’s not a good person anymore though, he lost any of the goodness that was in him when he was drafted. The only thing he’s good for is the last thing any person would want to be good at. Nobody wants to be good at stealing lives. Sure, being good at killing was a desirable trait during the war. Everyone rejoiced when they killed a Nazi. The war. And the subsequent events, stripped him of any goodness he had and replaced it with darkness. But that darkness was cleared when he arrived here. He’s still capable of taking lives, and is still efficient while doing it, but he’s no longer overwhelmed with the emotions that come with the darkness. Now he’s just a person; a person who’s in recovery. He’s neither a good nor a bad person. Now he gets to start again with a clear slate. He has control of his own thoughts again, of his own feelings. He’s no longer a mindless follower, a toy to be played with and then put back on the shelf when he’s no longer wanted, only to be sold onto a new owner. He’s a person who can do whatever the hell he wants to. If he wants to be open about who he is, not a good person but also not a bad person, just a person trying his best, he can. If he wants to shout out to the world that he, James Buchanan Barnes, loves men, he can. If he wants to kiss a man, he can. If he wants to kiss Steve, he can sure as hell try. Especially now. 

He stands up, stretches his arms over his head, closes his door, washes his glass and starts to packs a bag before leaving it by the door. Tomorrow he’s going to have a very important surprise physio session with Shuri and Okoye. 

/ That night he dreams. He dreams of heat radiating from a blonde man sitting opposite him. A worn, uncomfortable couch beneath him and the hard, wooden backboard against his shoulder. He dreams of tracing a bone structure; cheekbones, jawbones, a nose with a raised bridged. A face that is embedded in his memory, a pattern that no one can take from him. He dreams of long, dark eyelashes on closed eyes. Short breaths and quivering hands. The curtains are closed so no one can see into the room through the single window of their one bed apartment. It’s late enough in the evening that no one will suspect a thing. He can feel the delicate skin under rough hands. The outline of an unforgettable face. And then the face starts to become cold as it slowly drifts away. He reaches for it, extends his arm as far he can, fingertips outstretched. But the face continues to go adrift, escaping as it gets further and further away from him. He knows he’ll never reach it, never get to touch it again. What he just experienced was a privilege. To touch such delicate and fair skin is something very few have the honour to say they have done. But his hands are stained. They’ll taint the skin, disrupt its fairness. Saturate it in a crimson red. So he loses his privilege as the person that was once opposite him, fades away into nothingness. / 

Bucky wakes up drenched in sweat, cold shivers coursing through his body, unable to tell if that was a warped memory or just a dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who read the last chapter!  
> Again, massive thanks to everyone who beta read this and gave their feedback & who were excited for this chapter because it wouldn't have happened without yous <3  
> Chapter Three should be out mid next week .


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky wakes up the next morning when dawn breaks and the first rays of the sun enter his window. Bucky hated waking up early. After spending years having to wake up early, he relishes in sleeping in. But it’s gonna be a long walk to the city and he wants to get there early. Get it over and done with. Rip the band-aid right off and all that jazz.

Bucky wakes up the next morning when dawn breaks and the first rays of the sun enter his window. Bucky hated waking up early. After spending years having to wake up early, he relishes in sleeping in. But it’s gonna be a long walk to the city and he wants to get there early. Get it over and done with. Rip the band-aid right off and all that jazz.

He quickly showers, brushes his teeth and washes his face. He combs through his hair in an attempt to tame his bed head. The conditioner he uses, as per Shuri’s request, allows it to glide through his hair smoothly. His hair falls just past his jaw now. He thought about cutting it like he used to have it, but ultimately decided against. If he had, he would feel as if he’s just trying to be the old Bucky, but in the future. Once he made peace with how he’s grown and changed as a person, the desire to cut his hair faded. On his bad days that desire will spark again. Those are the days where he wants nothing more than to be the old him again. Ignore the PTSD, the brain trauma, the arm; ignore everything and go back to being the confident Bucky of the thirties who could charm everyone he met and didn’t have a plethora of both physical and mental issues. He knew that if he did do that, it would be a facade, but the phrase “fake it till you make it”, as corny as it is, runs through his head on those bad days. 

Once he’s dressed and ready, he grabs the backpack he prepared the night before and fastens its straps across his chest. With a deep breath, he shrugs his shoulders, trying to hype himself up for what he’s about to do, and starts the long trek into the city. 

-

He stops for a break when he reaches about halfway, taking a chance to eat something and drink some water. He might be enhanced, but the sun in Wakanda would have the Hulk feeling tired. He sits on the dry grass and hears the crunch of the dry blades snapping under his weight. He takes a swig of his water bottle and places it beside his right leg, which is slightly bent for comfort, and takes out a nutrition bar designed to cater to his high calorie intake demand. 

He looks up at the sky, the sun reaching its peak, meaning its almost midday. He’s right on schedule to reach the city by the afternoon. He sighs and relaxes, his shoulders dropping and his back slouched. He still doesn't know what he’s going to say to Shuri.   
Admittedly, he never actually thought that far ahead. This whole journey is very spur-of-the-moment. He thinks maybe he could sit her down, give her a big speech and hope that she puts the pieces together herself so he doesn’t actually have to say it. She’s the smartest person he knows, and he knows two Starks. Well, he knows one and knew another one in a different time. He shakes that thought quickly. He has more important things to spiral about today that’s not everyone he knew being dead. At this point, that thought process is a broken record on repeat in his mind. 

He sits and thinks for a little while longer before putting the now empty bar wrapper back into his and reattaches his water bottle to his backpack. He stands up, dusting off his trousers of any sand and grass, and continues on his way to the city. 

-

He reaches the city a little after three in the afternoon. It’s bursting with life. Kids going home after a day in school, street merchants at their stalls selling handmade crafts and homemade goods. He loves it here. Rich in culture, untouched by colonisation. The street art on the side of buildings, spray paint colours bright and loud. Sometimes when he closes his eyes here he feels like he’s home in Brooklyn. The loud noises and the feeling of being surrounded by strangers is oddly comforting to him. It helps him feel at peace. Only one thing in this world makes him feel at home, and if he had Steve with him, Wakanda could easily become his home.

He maneuvers his way through the streets, trying his best not to knock into people as he passes them in the busy streets. He has to restrain himself from stopping at every stall to see what’s on sale today. He loves looking at all the crafts the tradespeople make. His hut is full of ornaments and furniture from these stalls. He limits himself to only looking through a handful of stalls today, being mindful that he still has to meet Shuri. He tells himself he’s just really interested in the stalls he visits and that’s why he lingers at each one he visits, but really he’s just trying to procrastinate his visit. 

At the last stall he visits, something catches his eye. It’s a small wooden ornament of two people dancing together. They’re holding each other close, they’re around the same height but one is the slightest bit shorter than the other. The shorter of the pair has their hands around their partners waist, their own fingers intertwined in the dip of the taller ones back. The taller figure has their left hand on the back of their partners head while their right hand loops around the others shoulders, pulling them close so that they’re chest to chest. The piece is carved so a small gap is between the pairs faces to allow their foreheads to touch. It brings forward a tidal wave of emotions that Bucky wasn’t expecting. Tears fill his eyes as he’s bombarded with memories and dreams of him in the same position as the ornament.

He pays for the ornament and puts in his bag before taking a deep, even breath to settle his emotions and walks in the direction of where he’s spent all day trying to reach; the palace. 

-

The palace is huge. It’s walls are covered in art, some filled with paintings of past royalty, others are lined with sculptures of previous black panthers. In the main entrance there’s a shrine to the God Bast, who is said to have enriched Wakanda with the Vibranium that has allowed it to become such a rich and independent country. The God is depicted as a panther, it’s totem, in a graceful pose that replicates that of a panther hunting; body low to the ground and legs ready to pounce. 

After passing two members of the Dora Milaje, the Royal families security, he takes the elevator to the floor where Shuri’s lab is located. It’s in the elevator where reality of what he’s about to do hits him. His breath quickens and shallows slightly, his palms begin to sweat as he clenches and unclenches his fists. He starts to rock back and forth on the balls of his feet in his unrest. He’s about to tell someone something he’s never told anyone before; not Steve, not his Ma, not Becca. And the person he’s about to tell is the Princess of Wakanda no less. Maybe this isn’t as good of an idea as he thought it was. 

The ding of the elevator is what brings him back to the present and stops him from thinking himself out of doing this. He’s going to do this. He needs to do this. He walks out of the elevator and up to the guard at the door. He explains how he doesn't have an appointment to meet with the Princess and that he’s aware that she’s working right now but he needs to see her because he’s having issues with the newest prototype of his arm. The guard nods understandingly and steps aside, giving Bucky permission to enter the lab. 

The labs empty when he first enters. He thinks that maybe he’s missed Shuri and that she’s away at a meeting. That is until he hears an explosion on the floor below him. His soldier instincts kick in and he runs down the stairs, taking two at a time, prepared for a fight. As he rounds the corner, fists raised, he sees Shuri behind a cloud of smoke, glass beakers and test tubes spread out on the work space before her. He drops his hands slowly, suppressing the laugh that’s rising in his chest. 

“Don’t even think about laughing, James. I’m still mad at you.” And that’s his laughter killed. 

 

He nods, face becoming neutral, no traces of humour. “Are you okay? Do I need to get someone to help clean? Or something to make sure you’re not hurt-”

“I’m fine James, I can handle myself. I’m the lead scientist here, I’m more than capable of cleaning up after myself.”

Of course she is, why did he even suggest something like that. He just doesn't know how to say the right things to Shuri these last few days. 

“Why are you here anyways, is it the arm?”

Oh shit. 

“Yea it’s the arm, well actually it’s not, it’s… you know, like about yesterday.” He stammers out. He’s a deadly trained assassin, a World War II vet, a supersoldier, and here he is, reduced to a stuttering mess in front of a teenager. Maybe he’s not progressed as much as his therapist says he has.

“Oh? And what about yesterday brings you here? Are you ready to apologise? To learn from your ignorance?” Shuri’s tone is neutral, she hasn’t raised her voice, but he can hear the edge in it.

“Yea I’m ready to learn. Kinda. Because it’s like, um. It’s...God I don’t know what it’s lik-”

“You’re wasting my time here James, just spit it out already”

Here it goes. 

“I’m gay.”

“Wait what?”

“And I’m in love with Steve.”

“You’re in love with who?!”

“And I’m sorry for yesterday.”

That’s it. He’s said it. He’s told someone. He’s finally told someone his biggest secret, something that he’s kept to himself for his whole life. He’s told someone and he still has all his teeth in his mouth and his nose isn’t broken. It went okay, he thinks, besides the flabbergasted look on Shuri’s face. What feels like hours, but is really seconds, passes before Shuri says something again.

“Okay. So, a quick recap.”

He nods.

“You’re gay?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re in love with Steve?”

“Yes”

“Okay. That’s, that’s a lot to take in.”

“I know.”

“But it’s okay. You know that?”

“I do.” 

“Good.”

And he smiles, a genuine smile, one of the few he’s worn since his old life. The smile reaches his eyes, the skin around the corners creasing with it. The weight he’s been carrying since childhood has finally been lifted, and it feels so good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late, it took a lot longer to write than I'd hoped it would. This is mainly filler, aside from the end, and I wanted to use this chapter to improve my description of everything surrounding Bucky.
> 
> Thank you again to my three beta readers who kept me motivated while I struggled through this chapter <3
> 
> Chapter Four should be out at some stage later this week!!
> 
> Thanks for reading<3


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Shuri talk about history and Steve’s visit. (i’m so bad at descriptions)

Hours later the pair were still sitting in Shuri’s lab. The Princess had insisted on checking up on his arm, telling him “You’re here now anyways so I should look at it” and that’s how they ended up having food brought to them while Bucky sat, plates on his forearm open, and Shuri with her head close to it with a small screwdriver in hand and a look of pure focus on face. 

They didn’t talk about his coming out though. Awkwardness settled in the air after he came out and Shuri accepted him, which he still hasn’t fully wrapped his head around just yet. Neither of them knew what to say afterwards, he didn’t think that far ahead when he was coming up with the plan, and Shuri was half expecting him to talk more, she could probably sense that he wanted to but couldn’t find the words to, so she stayed silent until she brought up the arm. He never thought of his arm as a conversation ice breaker but here they are. 

The awkwardness drifts away and the hours pass as they fall into small talk. How his goats are, what Shuri’s working on these days besides his arm. She’s working on a way to expand the procedure that was done on Bucky to allow for other soldiers and POW to be deconditioned without the aid of a reality bending enhanced human. Bucky feels a certain way about that, he can’t describe how he feels or pin it to a single emotion, but he knows he feels good about it. The procedure being a success on him could lead to it now being used to help others in situations similar to the one he was in. His progress, his _good_ progress, is going to help people’s lives. He could save lives instead of taking them. 

Fingers snap in his face and he’s brought back from his thoughts. Shaking the dazed look off his face he looks at Shuri, who’s pointedly staring at him, one eyebrow raised. Bucky cocks his head to the left, confusion replaces the dazed look.

“Well? Are you going to?”

Going to do what? Bucky doesn't try to hide the confusion he’s wearing, his brows furrow and his mouth opens a little, like he’s trying to pull a string of words together that will make it look like he was listening to what Shuri was saying?

“Uhhh…”

Shuri groans and throws her head back, her exasperation clear. When she looks back at him, he still looks just as confused. “I can’t believe you weren’t listening.” She says with an eye roll, “As I was saying.” the emphasis she puts on that sentence doesn’t go unnoticed “Are you going to tell tall, blond and handsome that you love him when he comes to visit this week? They’re arriving Saturday, all going well, so I hope you’ve a plan.” Saturday. Steve will be here Saturday. Today’s Wednesday, which gives him two days before he has to see Steve. He wasn’t planning on saying anything, and still isn’t planning on saying anything. But now with Shuri knowing, he’s not sure how long his secrets going to stay a secret. He knows Shuri wouldn’t outright tell Steve about Bucky’s feelings for him, but she’d accidentally let it slip somehow or would expose Bucky by trying to help him or set the pair up. 

“I wasn’t planning on telling him in the first place, and I’m still planning on not telling him. Just cause I told you doesn’t mean things are going to be different. Steve still doesn’t like me like that. If he did he would’ve said so before, Lord knows he’s had plenty of chances to; even before the war he had his chance to tell me” 

“Before the war? What do you mean? I thought you said that people didn’t talk about being gay during those times?”

Bucky sighs. He really didn’t think he would be talking about these things, and he knows he shouldn’t be. Despite being years ahead of people her age, she still is only a teenager and it wouldn’t be right or fair of him to unload of his baggage onto her, he has a therapist for that. He thinks for a moment, trying to phrase what he’s going to say in a way that he doesn't say too much but says just enough to settle Shuri’s curiosity. 

“It’s like,” He pauses again. “When we lived together, me and Steve, I never hid my feelings for him. That doesn't mean that I went around parading them, but I never hid them in front of him. Our apartment was a safe haven of sorts. And he picked up on my feelings at some stage, I mean, at least I think he did. He was distant for a while after that. I could tell he was always holding his tongue around me, trying to keep in whatever he wanted to say. And then the war happened, and I was drafted and was captured soon after. And then Steve came, but it wasn’t _Steve_. There was something different about him out there. Maybe it was Carter, they’d gotten close when I wasn’t around. He loved her I think, and that was fine. I tried not to think about it all when I was out there, you know what it’s like in a situation like that, in a fight so big.” Shuri nods but doesn't say anything, and he hates that she understands. “So that was it, tried to keep my head in the fight, completed missions, stayed objective. Things were going fine until, you know...” He lifts his left arm. “And here we are. So it’s fine. Me and Steve will be fine. Always have been and always will be. But I appreciate it, you know?” Now it’s Shuri’s turn to wear a look of confusion. “Your concern, your wanting to help. I appreciate it, I really do.”

Silence settles around them again and a few minutes pass before Shuri breaks it once again. 

“I know what we should do. You’re still being caught up on what you missed right? History and stuff?” Bucky nods. “But I doubt you’ve been caught up on the gay rights movement. So, why don’t we look at it now? There’s too much to get into to talk about it all tonight, but it’ll be a good place to start.”

He sits, stunned for a moment, but lets out the smallest laugh and smiles at the princess, “Yeah, I’d like to look at that”

“Okay, so, we’ll look at the Stonewall Riots first..”

And that’s how Bucky ends up spending the night learning about a raid on a gay bar that started a revolution. 

…

It’s late by they time the finish talking about the Riots, so Bucky stays the night in one of the many guestrooms in the palace. 

As he lies on the bed that’s edging on the side of _too soft_ , his mind wanders to Steve and what Shuri asked earlier, about telling Steve his feelings. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to tell Steve, if the conversation were to come up, which he has a funny feeling it might; call it an intuition.

A lot was left unspoken before his draft. Steve never kept something from Bucky for so long in that time, so when he started watching what he said and started holding back, Bucky had gotten worried. He’d thought had finally picked up on what Bucky was putting down. He thought Steve, as open as he was, didn’t accept or approve of the lifestyle. But here they are, in the twenty first century, and Steve likes fellas too. Maybe he has a chance this time. 

And that’s the last thought he has before he drifts away into a peaceful sleep. 

…

_“Stevie, I’m home~” Bucky sings as he closes the door to their apartment behind him. He hangs his hat on the hook beside the door and turns to face Steve, who’s well enough today to stand up long enough to make them dinner. It’s the end of the week and Bucky’s not getting paid for another two days, so they’re short on groceries. Steve makes do though, using whatever scraps they have and makes enough that they’ll have meal to get them by until Bucky’s next pay check._

_“Busy day? Must have been, cause I can smell the sweat off you from over here.”_

__

_Steve’s voice still sounds hoarse from the cold he’s getting over, but he sounds so much better than he did the night before. Without thinking, Bucky struts over to Steve, grabs his arms, and starts swinging them about in what’s supposed to resemble a dance._

_“God Buck, that good of a day? Get a pay rise or sometin’?”_

_Bucky laughs, he wishes he did. “ Nah Steve, y’know that wouldn’t happen for a million years. I’m just happy ‘cause you sound better today. We’re celebrating cause you’re not gonna die on me just yet.”_

_The last bit gets a laugh out of Steve. Bucky jokes about Steve getting sick and the probability of his sickness killing him. He used to never joke when they first met. Whenever Steve would make jokes about dying, it would send Bucky into a panic. He’d tell Steve not to make those jokes, that he’d joke about it one day and then it’d happen the next. But Steve always told him it’d be okay. They were all gonna go someday, so why bother sugar coating it, Steve would tell him. It took him time, but eventually Bucky joined in on the jokes too._

_They spin around for some time after until Steve loses his breath and has to hold onto the counter top to get it back. That happens when he laughs too much, so Bucky doesn't fret. Instead he leans on the wall opposite Steve, slumped down slightly against it, with a smile on his face that he wouldn't wear in front of anyone else but Steve._

_“Yeah Buck, guess you’re stuck with me for a little while longer.”_

_“Good. Cause you’re my best guy Steve, and I wouldn’t wanna be here without you.”_

_Steve looks up at him through his eyelashes with a sheepish smile on his lips. It’s a perfect sight, one Bucky knows he’ll never forget._

When Bucky wakes up the next morning he’s made his decision; he’s gonna tell Steve he loves him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope yous enjoyed this, I really enjoyed writing this chapter! Thanks for reading & to everyone who beta read this <3

**Author's Note:**

> This started off as a headcanon between me and Hope (@widowwasp) and I've now made it a semi planned fic. I still don't know if I'm gonna finish the fic but here's chapter one anyways. Thank you to Hope (@widowwasp), Tabi (@cwbarnes), and Sam (@parkersambition) for beta reading this <3


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